


the cat knows

by determination



Category: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29034591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/determination/pseuds/determination
Summary: No one expected Throgmorten to take such a liking to Conrad.
Relationships: Christopher Chant/Conrad Tesdinic, Conrad & Throgmorten
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	the cat knows

**Author's Note:**

> been a while since i posted anything... for many reasons (perhaps most of which is a recent rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis lol) but i missed this pairing so i decided to post a couple of old-ish things.  
> this was originally going to have 2 parts but i could never write more to it that i was satisfied with, so it's going up as is. hopefully it's still enjoyable;;  
> as usual, please no criticism or critiques thanks!

No one expected Throgmorten to take such a liking to Conrad. Likewise, Conrad had a hard time believing it when Christopher and Millie told him that the cat was all around disagreeable and mean. Ever since the cat had laid eyes on Conrad, he was nothing but genial, purring (though the sound could hardly be considered such) and brushing up against Conrad’s legs until he knelt down to pet Throgmorten. 

This favoritism seemed to irk Christopher, who had been Throgmorten’s previous favorite. Conrad thought it was cute, how Christopher would give the cat dirty looks whenever Throgmorten abandoned him to go to Conrad instead, sometimes heavily curling up on Conrad’s lap and dozing off. Apart from the roughness of his fur, his disheveled appearance, and the... particular odor he gave off, Conrad didn’t mind that Throgmorten had picked him. It was a pleasant thing amongst the stressful changes of going from Series Seven to Series Twelve, and in particular of Chrestomanci Castle. 

Conrad liked the grandness of the castle. It felt important, like he was training to actually do something meaningful. But at the same time, the atmosphere (and the spells around the castle, he later found out from Christopher) made him feel small and insignificant. For some time at the beginning of his stay, the only things that kept him going were his friendship with Christopher and Millie, and Throgmorten’s unlikely companionship. 

When Conrad found himself needing to vent, he was hesitant to bother Christopher. Millie wasn’t an option after she left to continue her schooling, and Christopher always seemed to be dealing with something or other. Gabriel had gotten on his case about his behavior again, or Flavian had forced him to stay after lessons to work on a spell. Conrad didn’t want to add to Christopher’s burdens, especially when some of the things on his mind were related to Christopher.

And so he did the next logical thing and talked to Throgmorten. The cat often joined him in the evening when he retreated to his room and would sit at the foot of his bed, purring and occasionally letting out his strange, rasping meows that sounded more like broken machinery. He felt, to Conrad, like an avid listener, which seemed silly considering he was only a cat. But it helped Conrad feel heard when he didn’t feel comfortable turning to anyone else. 

As Conrad grew more accustomed to his situation at the castle, that left more time for thinking about Christopher. Which was perhaps not the smartest thing, but Conrad found it hard to tune the thoughts out. He would find himself easily distracted by Christopher’s smile. When Christopher cracked a smug joke, Conrad would think about it for the rest of the day and chuckle to himself. Christopher’s skills as an enchanter always amazed him as well, and drew his attention every time they had lessons. How did Christopher do it, he wondered. 

Of course, that didn’t mean Christopher didn’t still annoy him. He was thoroughly good at saying the most irritating things in a way that made you want to hit him, and he was thoroughly horrible at noticing when he’d done something that hurt you. Still, he was so charming that it was impossible to stay mad at him about anything.

And, as it to make matters worse, he kept making Conrad think troubling things. When Christopher came out of his room with his curls still down, Conrad would think longingly about running his fingers through those curls, and lamented their loss when Christopher showed up later having used magic to slick his hair back. When Christopher’s hands were nearby, Conrad would imagine slipping his fingers between Christopher’s. Sometimes at night, he would lie in bed and wonder how it would feel to share a bed with Christopher, perhaps curled up against Christopher’s taller body. But the worst was when Christopher smiled. Christopher’s smile unfailingly made Conrad want to kiss him, which was a rather large problem because Christopher smiled quite often. This usually resulted in Conrad blushing and looking away, and he was frankly surprised Christopher hadn’t seemed to notice yet.

He told Throgmorten so one night as he fed the cat some scraps he had managed to sneak from dinner. “You don’t suppose he does know, do you?” Conrad muttered thoughtfully, brushing his hand over Throgmorten’s matted fur. Throgmorten let out a curious noise, and Conrad blushed despite himself. Throgmorten was just a cat, after all. He couldn’t understand what Conrad was talking about. “I mean, it’s not like there’s any reason for him to notice. Why would he pay extra attention to me when he has so many other things to think about?” 

Throgmorten grunted and got up, and Conrad yelped when he felt sharp claws gripping his legs. “Careful,” he winced. Throgmorten meowed a few more times, almost as if he were conversing, before settling down in Conrad’s lap. Conrad sighed and thought about Christopher. “... What’s he so pretty for, anyway?” Conrad muttered. “It’s almost infuriating.” Throgmorten let out a hearty noise at that, which made Conrad laugh. “Glad we agree.”

Then came the time when Conrad learned something that embarrassed him exceedingly. He and Christopher had finished lessons and Throgmorten had come to join them, purring like a generator while he rubbed against Conrad’s hands. Christopher watched with a slight frown, eyeing Throgmorten with narrowed eyes. He looked rather like a disappointed child whose parent had begun doting on a younger sibling, which Conrad found funny. He said so to Throgmorten, who made a loud noise that might have been a laugh, and that made Christopher scowl. “Sorry for stealing your cat,” Conrad said, unable to keep from grinning.

“Touching concern, Grant,” Christopher pouted. Conrad’s grin vanished quickly because the pout made him want to kiss Christopher, which was problematic, considering it was the first expression apart from the smile that sparked that thought. “Unfortunately, you didn’t steal anything. He’s quite capable of choosing his own company, I assure you, and that means you must be a better conversationalist than me.” He shot Throgmorten a dirty look, to which the cat meow-laughed again.

On the one hand, Conrad was glad for a reason to stop thinking about kissing Christopher. On the other hand, Christopher’s remark was a little too serious for his liking. “What do you mean?” he asked nervously.

Christopher seemed to realize something and shook his head, grinning a bit. “He’s a cat from a different world - an Asheth temple cat from series Ten, not that that would mean anything to you. What it does mean, though, is that he’s perfectly capable of understanding human speech, even if we lack the capacity to understand him in return.”

That knowledge was staggering. Conrad’s mind ran through every single thing he’d ever told Throgmorten, every thought he’d had about Christopher, and felt his face turn bright red. Christopher noticed this, to his dismay, and gave him a questioning look.

“What exactly have you been saying to him?” Christopher asked, glancing between Conrad and the cat. 

“N-nothing!” Conrad blurted. Even though Christopher had said he couldn’t understand anything Throgmorten attempted to communicate, Conrad fiercely hoped that Throgmorten wouldn’t give him away. The cat meowed and pushed onto its hind legs to rub against Conrad’s face, which effectively knocked him down. Conrad sat on the floor, red-faced and feeling very foolish while Christopher gazed quizzically down at him.

He would have to tone down his venting. Sure, his feelings were difficult to contain, and there was the fact that Throgmorten was still only a cat; but it was different knowing that his pining had been understood. It was embarrassing. He knew it wasn’t Throgmorten’s fault, since clearly the cat couldn’t exactly tell Conrad that he understood what Conrad was saying - although now that he thought about it, that certainly made sense of all the times when Throgmorten seemed to be reacting to his words in a cognizant manner. He rather wished someone had said something about the cat’s nature when he first arrived, instead of finding out by chance now.

“Are you sure it’s nothing, Grant?” Christopher’s voice startled Conrad out of his thoughts. He was still watching Conrad, expression a mixture of amusement and concern. “You can talk to me, if you find yourself wanting a response you can comprehend.”

Conrad considered what it would be like to tell Christopher about his troubling thoughts and proceeded to blush brighter than ever. No, no he really couldn’t do that. The idea of Christopher finding out that Conrad spent a shameful amount of time thinking those things about him… It was enough to get Conrad to jump back to his feet with hasty excuses about needing to do something or other. He had disappeared down the hall before Christopher could even think to respond.

Christopher stared after Conrad, brows furrowed, lips pursed. Then, after a few seconds, he sighed and knelt down to pet Throgmorten, who seemed annoyed to have lost Conrad’s company. “You and me both, my friend,” Christopher muttered, scratching under Throgmorten’s chin. He turned his gaze down the hallway Conrad had retreated. “I don’t suppose you could give me even a small hint about what he’s told you,” he said. 

Throgmorten simply rumbled a meow and trailed away, leaving Christopher frowning by himself.


End file.
